


Mettamorphosis

by Berserkeroo



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Alphyne, Alternate Timeline, Angst, Asgoriel, Background character romance, Bloodshed, Character Development, Drama, F/F, F/M, Family, Fanon mixed with canon, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Love Triangle, M/M, One-Sided Love, Other, Post-Pacifist Route, Pretty much everyone from the game will be in this, Romance, Slow Burn, papyton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5844520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berserkeroo/pseuds/Berserkeroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”</p><p>In an alternate timeline where the war between monsters and humans never transpired, Frisk has formed a familial bond with two skeleton brothers who found them at the base of Mt. Ebott. Nothing is as transparent as it appears on the surface. The past, although vague, is never truly forgotten. Fate is peculiar like that. What does Fate have in store in this timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Well howdy folks! Welcome to my humble little corner of the Undertale fandom. Thanks for deciding to look into Mettamorphosis. Not much that I can say about the fan fiction, but that you guys are in for a real treat. A lot of good stuff will be thrown into the mix, and hopefully, you guys will enjoy it as much as I do. There is a Tumblr account to this fan fiction, but it's pretty bare at the moment. I plan on uploading drawings and a few animations on it. It's mttmorphosis for the curious that want to check it out.
> 
> Anyhoo, I've rambled enough! _Thanks for clicking on Mettamorphosis. Enjoy!_

_Rain beat against the cotton clad back of a young child. A vicarious growl resonated loudly across open moors of the mountains. A large monster dog skulked forward: teeth bore as saliva dribbled down its maws. Hesitantly, a tanned hand quivered over one of four options: **fight, act, item, or mercy**. _

_The child darted their eyes between the animal and the glowing alternatives. The canine stepped forward and unleashed a boisterous snarl. Without any reserve, the kid slammed their hand down on the **act** option. Three subcategories were summoned to their disposal. _

_A smile beamed across their face, and the child pulled out a piece of meat from their item bag._

_The monster sat on its haunches and wagged its twin tails vigorously._

_The small child threw the meat towards the feral dog, and watched as the large beast devoured the meat in peace._

_Soft footsteps blended with the syncopated fall of the rain. Boots slid across the moist gravel._

_The child looked up at the owner of the vibrant red boots in mild awe. The monster was extremely lean and tall._

_“Nyeh? A human?” a shrill voice stated bemused._

_“Nah bro. I think that’s just a rock,” a gruff voice replied._

_“Oh. Well Darn.”_

_“That on the other hand.” A bony finger pointed in front of the stone. “I’m pretty sure they’re a human.”_

_“Oh my god! Sans, what is a human child doing near the mountain?!” the taller asked._

_“Don’t know Papyrus. Maybe the kid is working on an **altitude** adjustment,” Sans responded as he winked at his little brother._

_“Sans!”_

_“Oh come on Pap. You’re smiling,” the “big-boned” skeleton snickered._

_“Yes, and I hate it…” Papyrus sighed. “Oh I swear I’m too **gneiss** to you brother! I feel that sometimes you take me for **granite**. Nyeh!” he responded with a hearty laugh._

_Sans ribcage rattled with laughter. “Not bad. It’s going to be hard to keep the ball **rock and rollin’** after that one,” he grinned._

_The child stifled their laughter between their tiny hands._

_The brothers looked at one another. “Human! I the great Papyrus, demand that you tell us where your parents are. It’s dangerous to be out here alone,” Papyrus requested._

_The young human hummed and tapped their finger on their bottom lip. After a moment of thought the child shook their head._

_Sans_ _raised his brow. “No parents, eh? That’s… not good,” he spoke unperturbed. With a lopsided smile skeleton said, “Don’t sweat it kid. We’ll keep an eyesocket out for ya. The name’s Sans, and this is my br-”_

_“And I am the great Papyrus!” Papyrus introduced boastfully._

_The elder rolled his eyes. “You’re pretty lucky kid. I don’t know what would have happed to you if we didn’t find ya first,” Sans replied matter-of-factly._

_The child took a hesitant step back. Their hand hovered over one of four options._

_Sans shoved one of his hands in his hoodie. “Relax. Can’t ya see I’m **pulling your leg** ,” he said as he held onto one of his lower limbs._

_“Oh please spare us your jokes.”_

_At this point, the child was in stitches at the comical duo._

_Sans rustled the kid’s brown tresses. “Eh, kid. You never told us your name,” he commented._

_The human wriggled their lips. A hushed response rumbled from their throat. “F-Frisk,” Frisk spoke._

_“Well Frisk, I — the great Papyrus — welcome you with open arms,” Papyrus said with his arms open to embrace the human._


	2. If You Can't Beat 'Em, Show Off!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally if I have super short chapters, it is followed by something far bigger; especially if that short chapter is my first chapter. It was more of a prologue than anything else. I couldn't leave my readers hanging with such a small thing, so I decided to finish the first _official_ chapter, before I post both at the same time. This won't happen all the time. Real life has me pretty busy at the moment, but I've got a big craving to write Undertale fanfics. I can't say that I'll update on a schedule, but I'm pretty good at keeping people satisfied until my next chapter update. We'll see when we see. _Thanks for clicking Mettamorphosis. Enjoy!_

The _Underground_ — the grand district inhabited by monsters — bustled as the nightlife emerged with the setting sun. The inseparable trio promenaded down the broad boulevard of southwest Hotland.

Frisk trotted between Papyrus and Sans: their tiny hands interwoven in the brothers’ phalanges. The skeletons pointed to various signs, shops, and buildings. Papyrus favored a more vocal approach towards introducing the diverse cultures in the monster’s largest melting pot. It was the child’s first time in the large district, and the sights dazzled with glamorous light shows and catchy music.

A sultry voice reverberated across the district’s speakers. The image of a metallic rectangle flashed on a glorious digital sign. “Right on time,” Sans commented dryly. The robot danced vivaciously across the screen.

Frisk pulled on Sans’ blue hoodie. They pointed towards the robot on the screen.

Papyrus wriggled in his boots as his eyesockets widened. “Why Frisk, that’s Mettaton! One of the few people that I can say is actually as great as myself,” the lanky skeleton answered cheerfully.

Mettaton struck poses with high-energy and precision to the fast velocity of the song. “… and don’t forget my lovelies, MTT will be brought to you live in central Hotland at 8PM sharp. Don’t keep me waiting darlings,” the animatronic ended his broadcast with his hands joined together to form a heart. 

Frisk beamed with their mouth agape. “Mah-ton… Mett-ton…” they fumbled around with their words. The child huffed with their cheeks puffed.

Sans ran his phalanges through Frisk’s hair. “Nice first attempt kid,” he said with a wink. His eyes turned to his brother as the younger spoke.

“You see brother, even humans realize the greatness that is Mettaton. Do you want to go see the show Frisk?” Papyrus asked.

The human nodded vigorously. “Metta!” they cheered.

“Then it’s settled! I, the great Papyrus, shall chaperone Frisk to their first MTT Production!”

Sans winked at his brother. “Don’t you mean chaper **bone** ,” he chuckled.

“Why must you torment me so?” Papyrus huffed. “Regardless, you’re coming too.”

The elder brother pulled his face up in abhorrence. “Why am I bein’ punished?” he asked.

“Because you think you’re quite the comic, Sans,” the younger responded.

Frisk whimpered with a pleading expression. “Fine…” Sans responded. “But only because I’m irresistibly… **humerus**.”

* * *

Hours transpired as the time for another MTT premiere descended upon the Underground. One by one, the Mettaton fan base filtered into the Hotland’s coliseum.

Frisk toddled between their guardians: their right hand clasped around the younger brother’s red boot. Their eyes wandered across the effervescent, bright lights: each neon bulb composed the grand display of the celebrity’s name. A large screen flashed various photos of the robot in his various forms.

Sans stuck out his blue tongue. “If I had a throat I’d ask someone to _gag me_ ,” he grumbled.

Hushed whispers rumbled around the trio. Small white irises darted between monsters in the crowd. Many attendees glanced at the human child in their midst: a few eyes glistened with curiosity while others held less discernable reactions.

_How odd? How… rare. A human found so deep within monster territory._

Frisk grasped the elder brother’s hand.

Sans looked down at the small child and flashed him a wide grin. “Let ‘em talk. _We’re_ here to have a good time,” he stated as he ruffled Frisk’s ochre tresses. 

Voices roared across the coliseum as pink fog slid from the stage. A velvet-like voice slithered amid the smoky veil. “ ** _Oh yes!_** ” the masculine figure purred. A magenta glint flashed from the shrouded being.

Mettaton walked forward as the fog slowly dispersed. His lips curled in a Cheshire cat grin. “Welcome, beauties and gentlebeauties…” he greeted.

Upon arrival, the robot’s tone and presence commanded attention. Hushed tones quieted into silence as the trademark introduction fell from the celebrity’s lips.

“We love you Mettaton!” a boisterous tree monster shouted from their seat.

Mettaton winked in the general direction of the voice. “Aw, how sweet. Love you too darling,” he replied casually.

The enthusiastic plant gushed at the comment before they collapsed.

Frisk’s eyes widened at the sudden downfall of the large monster.

“ **Timber!** ” Sans shouted.

The downed monster obstructed a generous amount of the audience, and many monsters’ scope was limited to the encompassment around the tree. Several shifted their stances, or opted to sit on the unconscious tree.

The introduction of Mettaton’s theme — [ _Death_ _by_ _Glamour_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ied9QptD5xM) — faintly played in the background as the celebrity chatted about today’s performance, and a few future installments that finally went through MTT Production’s approval.

Frisk looked at the large wave of monsters around them. Many obstructed their view and left them blind to the show. They glanced up at Papyrus, but the skeleton was snuggly pressed against a clique of monster teens.

Determined, the child looked over to Sans, who looked less than amused about the situation as a whole.

Frisk tapped the _big-boned_ skeleton on the shoulder. The human covered their left eye and pointed upward.

Sans raised a brow with a look of indifference. “You sure about kid?” he asked. Frisk nodded and gave a thumbs up.

Sans closed his eyes. His SOUL fluttered as a blue aura channeled through his body, and peaked at his fingertips.

“M-E-T-T-A-T-O-N! M-E-T-T-A-T-O-N! M-E-T-T-A-T-O-N!” the crowd cheered. 

The physical manifestation of his blue magic enveloped the human child with the upmost care. Frisk slowly hovered above the monsters that were left to the laws of gravity. The music began to increase in volume as Mettaton wrapped up his overview. _Now, it was time to dazzle!_ However, all good things had to be ruined by someone.

“Human, get out of the way! I paid an arm and a leg to get these seats,” a gnarly parrot monster squawked from behind. In all honesty, the monster was actually missing an arm and a leg. 

Sans turned his gaze to the annoying creature. “Eh pal, chill. It’s their first show and they can’t see,” he stated calmly. “ _I ain’t got time for fanboys…_ ” he thought with his jaw jutted to the side in mild disdain. 

“ _It’s their first show and they can’t see,_ ” the parrot repeated — albeit with a hint of indifference. “That’s not _my_ problem! Humans know better than to come to live MTT shows. They stay in their homes. They don’t belong here,” they responded.

Frisk frowned at the malevolent comment. 

Sans gritted his teeth. Gold and blue fought for dominance over the left eye. His grin widened — if that were possible. “You lookin’ for a bad time pal?” he growled lowly.

Papyrus shimmied through the masses, towards the impending brawl. “Sans?” he questioned.

“So you plan on jumping me shorty? Talk about no battle courtesy! Disgusting!” the parrot scoffed.

Papyrus gasped. “That’s hitting below the belt,” he responded.

Contrary to human culture, monsters had a unique way to encounter beings that piqued their interest: with a battle. First and foremost, battles were meant to be consensual and fair. _Jumping_ — while not uncommon — could be perceived as rude, and _highly dishonorable_ if executed poorly. In its essence, battle was a greeting — a chance to make a friend: and other times, a defense of self and honor.

The more it gabbed the more this haughty bird was closer to a beat down! “Okay, that’s it!” Sans shouted with his hands flung in the air. Unbeknownst to him, his magic was still active… and poor Frisk was flung into the air.

Meanwhile, Mettaton posed dramatically with open arms. His audio sensory picked up the minor distress in the crowd. The robot opened his magenta eyes slowly, and his expression slackened. “ _My goodness! What’s that?!_ ” he yelped mentally, and lifted his hands just a bit further.

Frisk landed safely within the celebrity’s arms. The human sighed in relief, but noticed the stage lights were far brighter than what they previously were. They glanced up and recoiled a bit. Hesitantly, Frisk waved at Mettaton.

Several scenarios ran through Mettaton’s circuitry. _He had to think quickly! The show wasn’t progressing!_ His eyes darted between the child, and the large rating board floating above head. The numbers leapt by thirty percent! “ _Got it,_ ” he thought. 

Mettaton placed the child on the ground, and flipped his synthetic hair. Truly, he was flattered and a bit overwhelmed that a fan, a _human_ at that, had added a _dramatic_ twist to the show. “Oh my. If you’ve joined me on this stage, it can mean only one thing. You’re desperate to be a part of the premiere of my new program. _How rude_ …” he purred the latter. The sensuality dripping from his tongue spurred the response of several fan girls, however, the applause could wait. “Nonetheless, the show must go on!” 

The celebrity paused as he glanced towards the crowd. “Any MTT fan knows how much of a soft spot that I have for humans.” He leaned down to meet Frisk eye-to-eye. “ _Lucky you_ ,” he added in a rich, chocolaty tone. “Since you are the first human to _ever_ be featured on MTT Production, I’ll make this moment…” The tempo of _Death by Glamour_ intensified, “ ** _Absolutely beautiful!_** ”

Frisk turned towards the roaring crowd as they cheered for the celebrity. A sharp heel swung downward nearby the distracted human. “Ah-ah, darling. It’s rude to take your eyes off of your opponent. Seems I’ll have to teach you some etiquette.”

Not even a second afterward, a swift kick launched the human further towards center stage. _The battle had only begun._

“M-E-T-T-A-T-O-N! M-E-T-T-A-T-O-N! M-E-T-T-A-T-O-N!”

While Sans had his own fight on his hands, Papyrus stood back and supervised his brother. The increased enthusiasm of the crowd warranted a brief glance to the stage. His eyes wandered back to his brother’s fight, until it registered that a familiar human was onstage.

Papyrus’s eyes widened as he dropped his jaw. A shrill scream erupted from his nonexistent vocal chords. Emphatically, he rapped his finger onto his brother’s shoulder. “Sans. SANS. **SANS!** ” he spoke in tangent with his speedy tapping.

Sans looked over his shoulder. If it were possible his face would have gone pale… well, _paler_. “ _H-holy shit…_ ” he murmured.

“ **FRISK!** ” the brothers shouted and bolted towards the stage. 

In the midst of the fight, Frisk darted between bolts of lightning, pyrotechnics, and summoned drones. Their eyes focused on Mettaton, who once again checked the ratings. _They tripled since the last glance._

Frisk puckered their lips, before their eyebrows rose. Everything that had transpired was done in a particular fashion: _glitz, poses, action, suspense._ It all lead to one thing.

Mettaton hesitated. Battles were meant to keep moving. _How minimal was this human’s knowledge of battle courtesy?_ “ _Do they want to be spared?_ ” he pondered, until the human started to move.

Pose for pose, Frisk shifted position in tangent with _Death by Glamor_ ’s dynamic beat. The crowd shifted attention from the star to the young human’s passionate dance moves.

Mettaton glanced between the crowd and the view board. “ _Gods…_ ” he whispered. The numbers increased _exponentially_. **_Look at those zeroes!_** “ _Dance battle? So classy! The kid’s a natural,_ ” he thought with a cat-like grin.

“As if there’s a better way to fight, darling,” the star praised.

Frisk’s eyes locked onto the robot as he shifted closer. Mettaton smirked as he synchronized with the human’s dance movements — almost as if the whole production was staged from the get-go. Competition was always welcomed, but there was no way that he would be upstaged on his own show.

Lyrical words floated through the stadium as Mettaton sang to his theme. 

Papyrus and Sans shifted through the audience, and made it towards the backstage entrance. Dog monsters stood at the door. Their eyes snapped to the skeleton brothers. “It just had to be dogs,” Papyrus muttered.

“Well I’ll be **_dog-gone_** ,” Sans replied.

“Sans, you’re not helping. Frisk doesn’t know battle etiquette,” the younger of the two reminded.

“No kiddin’. I bet they’re **_terrier_** -fied,” the older responded as engaged the guards.

As the brothers made their way through the guards, the star and their human guest were completely oblivious to the chaos behind stage. What Frisk lacked in vocals, they made up in passionate dancing.

“What’s the matter, darling? Got stage fright?” Mettaton curiously asked. 

Frisk gazed up at their host. They had a horrible speech impediment, and language — at times — was extremely difficult. The youth shook their head and tapped their lips.

It wasn’t a difficult guess to make. “Really? How dreadful. You’d be _fabulous_ dear. Your parents must be proud,” he remarked.

Once again, Frisk shook their head.

“ _No parents?_ ” Mettaton thought: his expression drooped slightly, but not for long. “Honey, you’re breaking my heart over here,” he responded.

The host stopped glancing at his views long ago. This kid… This human… There was something familiar about their energy — their _determination_. Mettaton had never met a human in person before, but a form of fondness clutched onto his core as if he had known **_this_** human.

_Death by Glamour_ slowly faded out with a dazzling light show. The applause was louder than it had ever been, and the ratings: well, those didn’t matter right now.

What mattered was that another MTT Production was a success! “Thank you everyone! You’ve been a great audience,” Mettaton responded with just as much passion as his fans dished out.

Mettaton scooped the child into his arms and left the over-the-top stage. His gaze flickered between the backstage and his first face-to-face human fan. _This was too exciting!_ New production ideas floated through his mind. The child had natural, raw talent that just needed the right direction. “ _I think I might have a little protégé on my hands,_ ” he mused.

Before the celebrity could ponder on the thought for too long, a harsh crash came from the far end of the hall. The robot scowled with his unoccupied hand on his hip. “ _What are the Dogs doing over the-_ ” he paused.

The Dogs — his canine security force — was rendered immobile! Doggo yelped as he scampered across the room with a limp. “Pet? I’ve been… PET! Telepet. Telepat. Pit, pat, pet!” he barked. Lesser Dog was rendered a long-necked mess. _Accursed blue attacks!_ Dogamy and Dogaressa, as usual, were enamored with one another, and thus, were left to their own devices: bruises, matted fur and all. As for Greater Dog, he munched on a stray bone that was left from the attack.

Greater Dog’s eyes strayed away from the bone, and yipped excitedly upon Mettaton’s arrival. “All of you, I swear to god! Get up! What if someone…” His magenta iris flickered to the two skeleton brothers who bombarded their way through his security. “ _Well this is fabulous,_ ” he remarked dryly. “Excuse me. _Boys_ ,” he beckoned with a sickly sweet tone.

Both Sans and Papyrus watch the star as he advanced upon them. 

Papyrus beamed as he rushed up towards Mettaton. “Frisk!” he shouted. Yet in spite of his sincere intention, a bolt of lightning was summoned from the celebrity’s SOUL and landed a fraction of a hair away from the younger brother.

Mettaton wagged his metallic finger. “Darling, how rude!” he chastised. “You shouldn’t run up to people like that. Where are your manners?”

Sans appeared behind the robot. “Look pal…” he said. His smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as Mettaton pivoted on his heels, surprised. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re just here for the kid,” he stated.

“Not happening,” Mettaton replied bluntly. “Now leave before I call the Royal Guard,” he added. The Canine Unit leapt to their feet and stalked towards their cornered employer. 

“Like I said, we aren’t here for trouble buddy. That kid is our responsibility,” the elder brother stated emphatically. 

Mettaton raised a well-trimmed brow. “Is that so?” he question. “Then why did the cutie tell me that they didn’t have any parents,” he inquired.

Frisk pouted and began to wriggle in Mettaton’s protective grip. “S-Sans!” they said with outstretched arms.

“Told you,” Sans said, and took the child from Mettaton. “We’re not their biological parents, but we do watch out for the kid. _Frisk, doesn’t like talking about their parents_ ,” he added.

Mettaton brushed his fingers through the human’s hair. He didn’t have to be a scientist to put two and two together. “Poor baby,” he cooed. His magenta eyes honed in on the brothers. “To be frank, I was looking forward to taking them… Frisk,” he corrected, “under my _wings_ as a protégé. It would be a tragedy to waste such potential,” he commented.

Sans’ offered a half-hearted grin while he backed away from the star. Trickles of sweat slithered down his spine as he replied, “Nah, I think we’ve got -” 

“Wowie! _The_ _Mettaton_ is offering to teach Frisk the ways of class and glamour? They’d be a fool not to take it,” Papyrus boasted in pride.

“Now wait a-”

“Chic!” Frisk chirped in.

“Not you too kid…”

Now that he had at least two of the three onboard, Mettaton took in the time to notice that skeletons were the ones who defeated his prized pooches. With a curious brow raised, he asked, “Shouldn’t skeletons be afraid of dogs? No offense dear, but they probably see you as an oversized chew toy.” 

Papyrus posed graciously and responded, “Dogs do not intimidate the great Papyrus. At best one of your guards _made a snack out of my special attack_ ,” he added: the latter of his words dripped with annoyance. "Chew toys or not, my brother and I promised Frisk that we would look out for them — even if it meant facing out fears.”

Mettaton nodded with an approving smile of his own. “How absolutely noble darling,” he complimented. The robot stood poised with his index finger tapping against his metallic chin. “Hmm… I’ve got an idea. Since _some people_ ,” he spoke with a deliberate look towards the Canine Unit, “… have failed to keep uninvited guests from backstage, how would you like a job as head of my security?” he offered.

Sans hunched over with a dragged out sigh. “ _Damn…_ ” he thought. 

In spite of this, their situation could be worse. They would be able to watch over Frisk, and get paid to do it: not to mention that he knew about his brother’s dream to join the Royal Guard. If he was completely honest with himself, he was highly skeptical that the Royal Guard would allow Papyrus into their ranks without any documented experience or training.

“All right. All right. Fine,” he agreed, and forcefully shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Goodie!” Mettaton chimed. A serious glare went to the naughty pooches. “Shame on all of you. Bad dogs! No pets for you!” he scolded.

Greater Dog whimpered as Dogamy and Dogaressa clung onto each other. Lesser Dog’s eyes watered in disbelief. “No pets?!” Doggo yipped.

“Wow Mettaton. Way to kick the puppies,” Sans snickered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you guys can see, there are a lot of game mechanics that will be implemented into the story itself. I don't see why I should remove in-game mechanics when it isn't difficult to input them into the story. That, and the fact that I haven't come across any fan fiction that has wrote any of the game mechanics into their stories.
> 
> Battling being a part of monster culture is a personal head canon. It kind of makes sense considering how many fights that Frisk gets into throughout Undertale, and how those monsters never appear in battle again if you chose to run away from the fight. I think it's just about as much of their culture as designing puzzles, or it is in this fan fiction. As the story goes along I'll eventually make a post on the Tumblr about personal head canons, or canons that I find to be believable. Some of those will contain plot spoilers so it will be at a later date. Hope you enjoyed the chapter my lovelies.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** “ _Undertale_ ” and all characters related to the game belong to Toby Fox. _Undertale_ was created by Toby Fox, with the creative assistance of Temmie Chang. _Mettamorphosis_ and any characters not associated with Undertale belong to Berserkeroo.


	3. A New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! Welcome back to another chapter of Mettamorphosis. :3 This took a lot longer than planned, but then again — as you will soon realize — I don't publish short chapters. For any of my readers that have followed me from other site to here, they know that my chapters can be a bit... overwhelming. I think this chapter is roughly 18 pages. Heh. Passionate little fuzzball, ain't I? ;P Anywho, I have been doing a lot of drawing for the fan fiction, but I don't want to give spoilers to what happens later on so I'll withhold those for a while. I'm also thinking of making written posts on the Tumblr like diary entries, mainly Mettaton's diary entries. Other characters will have posts, but I wanted to get an opinion on here as well.

The final star of night departed from the skyline and made way for the arrival of the sun. Faint splashes of orange blended into the lavish pinks, purples, and blues of twilight. The dawn of a new day had yet to awaken many of the Underground residents. Very few embraced the opportunity to view the sun before it reached the world’s rim, but one star rose and shined with the sun.

Faint, distorted acoustic guitar strummed into clarity from the celebrity’s speakers. “ _I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums!_ ” a bass drum blared with just as much passion; “ _Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone. So while you're here in my arms, let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young…_ ”

 _[Die Young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WP43WfbXTU)_  continued well into the next verse until a set of dull lavender irises flickered to vibrant neon pink. A white-gloved hand hovered over the dial on his pink chest piece. Mettaton twisted the dial, and shut of his morning alarm. The robot brushed up his synthetic black locks and ran his daily troubleshooting software. White text projected across his right eye before it deemed that he was at 100% efficiency. 

Mettaton stretched his legs before he began his descent down the extravagant stairs that led up to his round bed. He walked over to his MTT-Brand Coffeemaker in his room. “ _Let’s see. Smol, tol, bygg, or byggr?_ ” he pondered. He pressed a button and casually watched the machine brew him a MTT-Brand Cappuccino made of transmission fluid.

With his drink in hand Mettaton left his room in search of his young protégé and new guards: he brisked down the long hallway until he came across the proper door. Resolution instilled in his eyes and he opened the door. “Good morning sunshine! We’ve got a big day ahead of us,” he cheered eagerly.

Sans rolled his head to the side — his left eye flicked up at his new employer. _It was too damned early to be that giddy!_ Unamused, the skeletal monster considered rolling his head back into the plush pillow until he heard Papyrus across the room. “ _Damn, damn, damn…_ ” he cursed silently. His newest job had an employer who woke up as early, if not earlier than his little brother.

“I heard that the early bird gets the worm, but even the worms aren’t up,” he commented.

Mettaton sauntered over to the young human and was moments from waking the child. “I don’t get to enjoy the day like everyone else does lovely. My mornings are usually the small fraction of a sacred moment that I have before I have to stick to my schedule,” he informed.

Papyrus was already on his feet. “We have to get up earlier?” he questioned. “Stupendous! This offers a great opportunity for training,” he chirped with an ear-to-ear grin; or, it would be ear-to-ear if he had ears.

The luminary grinned at Papyrus’s optimism and willingness “That’s the spirit! My guards get up when I’m up. Since this is your first day, I’ll let this slide, but from now on I expect both of you to be up around this time.”

Sans wanted nothing more than to become one with his bed, however a small bundle on another bed had other plans. The bulge wiggled beneath the sheets and an airy yawn escaped the weary child. _The thought was nice while it lasted_. 

Mettaton accessed his built-in clock. They had two hours of _free time_ before they had to head to the studio. He turned to address Papyrus, but the lean skeleton was already out of the room.

Sans blinked slowly as he stared at his boss. “If you’re lookin’ for Pap, he went for his morning jog,” he explained.

The automaton walked over to one of the windows that overlooked the entire villa. Not far from the main house, a small troop jogged the adobe’s parameter. The Canine Unit trudged behind their skeletal commander with determination in their wide, doe-like eyes. The celebrity chuckled. It seemed more that the Dogs took their “training” as a walk. Well, at least they were eager — too eager to be honest: though, Mettaton couldn’t tell if their eagerness was from getting up for a walk or the fact that the monster walking them was the equivalent of a walking treat factory. 

The elder brother yawned — tears caught at the corner of his eye sockets — and pondered whether he should go back to bed as soon as Mettaton left or not. His eyes darted towards the robot carrying the sleepy child on his hip. _That would be a big, fat **no**!_ Even though they agreed to work for Mettaton, the guy was still a complete stranger. “ _Great,_ ” he grumbled in his head.

Sans finally shrugged off his slumber and left the comfort of his bed. While he dug out his clothes from the previous night, he pondered, “ _Better talk to the calculator about our new arrangements._ ” He wasn’t one that was overly hygienic, but he knew that owning one set of clothes meant that he had to wash them more frequently. The newly hired guard slipped on his favorite hoodie and a pair of slippers.

 _Down the stairs, make two rights, go straight through the hall, make a left, and down another flight of stairs_ : Mettaton and his apprentice wandered the main house until they were near the dining wing. The robot briefly scanned the child, and deduced that Frisk was sleep-deprived.

Mettaton browsed through his programming and opened his Internet app. He hummed as several links to his search popped up. “No, no, no _,_ ” he grumbled lowly. After a bit of extra searching he came to the conclusions that humans, especially human children, required far more sleep than monsters. He saved the links in to his data bank for later.

“Okay darling, how does breakfast sounds?” he asked with his trademark smile. _No really, he had a patent on that smile_. 

Frisk raised their brow with a skeptical glance off towards the side. _Mettaton would cook for them?_ Upon arrival to the Hotland Coliseum, they passed by the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium. At first glance, the menu warranted their attention with its vast array of flashy foods. It wasn’t until they laid eyes upon a monster-child munching on an odd-colored burger covered in glitter and sequins. _Was that even edible?_  

Not wanting to be rude, Frisk decided upon their meal. They prepared themselves and said, “Om-let, t-t-ta-toast, and fruit.” The human’s speech was rushed and they didn’t want to look at their mentor. “ _C-Can’t even speak r-r-right,_ ” they scolded themselves mentally. 

Mettaton smirked and placed Frisk at the table. “It’s okay sweetie. We’ll talk about _that_ later,” he informed, and went into the kitchen. 

The human sat at the table silently. Speech wasn’t their strong suit. Never had been. Their family couldn’t figure out why. _Their family…_ Frisk gritted their teeth and clenched their hands into fists.

A mouth-watering aroma of herbs and spices mingled with the crisp, freshness of succulent produce. _The scent was familiar._  

_Dark curly locks bounced hither and dither against the near-flawless skin. A porcelain white grin flashed against the diminished sunlight that filtered through the wooden windowsill. A plate flooded with savory cuisine hovered right out of reach. Long lashes fluttered open, and a pair of eyes glinted with warmth._

_“Fri-”_

“Frisk… honey…” Mettaton called a bit louder. 

Frisk snapped out of their daze. Crimson eyes darted across the room. They were no longer in a small kitchen, but a large dining area. “ _A… A memory?_ ” they thought. 

“Sweetheart you’re starting to worry me,” the celebrity said.

The human looked up at his mentor. “Sorry…” they apologized.

“That’s quite all right. Don’t apol- … Just…” the robot hesitated. “Here,” he offered, and placed the breakfast down on the table. 

Frisk looked down at their breakfast. Much to their amazement it was as they had requested. No glitter, no sequins, no questionable dyes — just food.

Mettaton quirked his finely trimmed brow before he snickered. “Surprised there darling?” he questioned.

Frisk shirked in their seat. “N-no Metta,” they stammered.

An indiscernible expression graced the star’s visage. For a brief moment his pupils flickered from their usual sharp ovular shape to a small, black heart. “ _Oh… my god. So cute,_ ” the robot gushed.

Frisk shoveled a fork-full of their omelet and looked out of the nearby window. They tried to _spare_ their mentor’s feelings and got caught. _Wonderful_. “ _I’m going to get in troub-ble before I’m taught anything!_ ” they thought with flushed cheeks.

“Oh darling, don’t be embarrassed. The first and most important thing in being a star is that you should always be open to critique; even if you’re as fabulously flawless as I am,” the mentor commented to his ward. “Truthfully speaking, the Glamburger was a test for my MTT-Brand Edible Glitter and Sequins. The marketing team thought it wouldn’t sell, but it did surprisingly well and we kept it on the menu… Then again, this is _me_ we’re talking about sweetie,” he boasted. Burlap sacks would become a worldwide fashion statement if Mettaton showed enough interest.

Sans brushed passed his employer and Frisk with a sluggish gait. He went straight to the fridge and took out a bottle of ketchup. Mettaton cocked his head to the side as the skeleton popped off the top. The robot grimaced and looked away. Never before had he seen anyone, or anything, chug an entire bottle of ketchup. _It was a condiment for crying out loud!_ “ _Maybe I shouldn’t have made such a hasty decision when hiring these skeletons…_ ” he contemplated.

Ragged pants from the doorway snapped Mettaton out of his stupor. The Dogs trailed behind their superior with their tongues lolled out. Their eagerness never left their maws in spite of their fatigued composure.

The Canine Unit sat at their proprietor’s heels with an expectant gaze. Sure enough, Mettaton waltzed over to a nearby cupboard and retrieved five bowls. He pulled out a large bag of kibble and poured a healthy amount in each bowl. The star checked his built-in clock; after which he placed the bowls on the table in a hurried fashion and brisked out of the kitchen.

Minutes ticked away and yet Mettaton hadn’t returned. Sans opened his eyes lazily and hummed. “He’s been gone for a while…” he commented.

Dogamy lifted his ears and swiveled them about. “There’s nobody in the house who shouldn’t be in here,” he replied. Dogaressa sniffed the air and concurred with her husband.

Between bites Doggo snorted: “Knowing the boss… he probably… went off to talk to his board of directors… or his _manager_ ;” the latter of which was said with air quotes. The dog monster snickered a bit at his comment.

Frisk pushed their plate away once they had eaten the last of their breakfast, and walked off into another room. Not long afterward the Canine Unit finished their kibble, and Lesser Dog followed the human child into the parlor.

Now the room was empty, save for the two skeletal brothers still at the table. Sans’ head bobbed towards the table — sleep imminent in his eyes — however his zealous brother was insistent on being accompanied to view the MTT Villa with what little time that they had left of their morning break.

It was a rarity that Sans ever said “no” to his brother; and with such an ardent glint in the younger skeleton’s eyes, did the older of the two really have a choice?

The pair promenaded alongside the high wall that separated the villa from the waterfront. Papyrus whistled a hearty tune as they passed the verdant flora. Sans’ interest was focused more towards the beach in the distance: shades over his sockets; a drink in hand; bones bleaching in the sun. Afterwards, he would rest in his room. _It was perfect! Well, almost._

“Pap, we need to make better room arrangements than last night if we’re going to work for Mr. Nuts-N-Bolts,” Sans commented. 

Papyrus looked down at his sibling. “I don’t know. It wasn’t _that_ bad. It was rather nostalgic if you think about it. Like when we used to share a room,” he chimed in.

Mirth spilled from the stout monster’s lopsided grin. He shook his head to rid himself of the sentiment. “Guess you’re right, but I don’t think you’d appreciate me restarting a sock collection,” he chuckled.

“ **Sans!** ”

It appeared that the next few weeks would involve a lot of conversation between the new head guards and their new boss. 

* * *

By the next hour, a fuchsia limousine pulled up to the villa entryway. Mettaton was the first to enter, followed by Frisk, Sans, Papyrus, the Dogi, Doggo, Lesser Dog, and Greater Dog — in that respective order. Soon enough, the group set off to _MTT-Brand Studios_.

In the meantime, Sans took a nap as they cruised the quieted roads of Hotland. Frisk sat on Papyrus’s lap. The duo was engrossed with a book. Ever so often either Papyrus or Frisk would scribble something on the pages. The book read “ _The Hotland Report’s: Junior Jumble_ ”.

 _Junior Jumble_ wasn’t as much of a challenge as crossword puzzles. Frisk had a book filled with _Daily Crosswords_ too, but many of the puzzles had riddles and phrases that perplexed them. Usually Sans would help them if they were truly stumped, but their guardian favored sleep over a puzzle book; not that it surprised them. Papyrus was just as useless with crosswords. The lanky skeleton would fall asleep as easy as his brother.

Mettaton had activated his _default_ form midway through the ride. He watched the pair. Although Junior Jumble wasn’t their favorite puzzle book, Frisk looked too happy to solve the puzzles with his other guardian.

The celebrity’s internal temperature increased. His metallic coat heated. He felt a little envious of the relationship that his head guards had with his pupil. Yes, even Mettaton could admit that he was rather self-absorbed, but he still enjoyed the prospect of family; after all, he loved his family more than it appeared on the surface. 

Mettaton wasn’t so arrogant to the point that it blinded him. As much as it irked him, he knew that he was still considered a stranger to Frisk, and Papyrus and Sans were Frisk’s guardians. A few lessons and a little heart-to-heart would cure that. _It was next to impossible for anyone to go long without adoring him._

For now, the robot initiated his _low-energy mode_. His body was motionless and most of his functions went _offline_. The faintest trace of energy was used on his CPU while he thought of various forms of entertainment. 

* * *

 _MTT-Brand Studios_ loomed above the group. One by one, each exited the limousine and went their way. Papyrus and Sans began their shifts: Papyrus actually patrolled the backstage while Sans opted out to snooze, uhm… _guard the back door_.

Both mentor and student wandered behind a few MTT Production sets. Mettaton pointed out the minute details of each segment as they passed each production. Crimson eyes twinkled as they darted between the scenes: _castles, concert halls, game shows, fashion shows, staged musical ensembles, etc._ Although they were slightly nervous the child was determined nonetheless.

Ever so often Mettaton would glance down at Frisk. His attention shifted between the small human and his sets. So many possibilities… “ _But what is your forte darling?_ ” he mused. The industry could be ruthless to the ill prepared. A speech impediment would be something that they would have to work around… _Wait…_

Mettaton’s panels flickered a brilliant red. “ _Got it!_ ” he thought.

Frisk’s speech impediment wouldn’t be something to work around. No, it would be something to work with! _A competitive edge!_ “I’ve got the perfect niche for you sweetie. You’ll love it,” he proclaimed.

Frisk looked up to their mentor skeptically. Resolution radiated from the rectangular robot. Someone that confident in their pupil’s abilities couldn’t be wrong, right? “ _Maybe Metta’s r-right._ ” 

As Mettaton wheeled through another set, he commented, “I’ve been curious about how human actors managed to entertain in silence. Not many monsters — or humans for that matter — pay attention to that kind of entertainment anymore.” He pulled up his web browser. White text flickered over his concealed eye. “You’re probably too young to know who Charlie Chaplin is.”

Frisk cocked their head to the side as the celebrity prattled on about films from the Silent Era. “You know darling, I’ve never wrote anything for a western film. Maybe we could watch a few William Hart films and come up with something together,” he offered.

If anyone could make a western appeal to the modern masses it was that confident slab of metal.

Frisk tapped their finger to their chin. They smiled and gestured about emphatically. Sure enough, Mettaton understood his young protégé; but maybe he should consider hiring a speech tutor, or at least someone that taught sign language.

“I guess you’re right sweetie. This would be the perfect drama: nonstop dangers, heart-stopping thrills, and the most tragic romance in bloom. I love it!” he giggled. 

The star beckoned one of his guards. “Lesser!”

The fluffy monster ambled over to its employer with their tongue lolled out. They panted exuberantly. Sheer willpower saved the robot from the fate of being tackled to the ground and coated in drool. _Maybe they could get the boss to pet them? Just a little… or a lot._ “ _Pet!_ ” they thought.

Mettaton shook his head — or as close to it as he could in his rectangular form — and spoke; “Pay close attention. I want you to fetch-”

Instantaneously, their tail wagged faster. Before another word could be uttered, Lesser Dog darted from their position and scampered about the backstage.

Mettaton face-palmed, and Frisk flinched at a sudden crash. “ _For heaven’s sake_ ,” he grumbled. His choice of words could have been chosen more carefully.

Gruff mumbles erupted from behind one of the stage curtains, followed by a shrill cry. Lesser Dog bound back towards the two whilst they dragged Papyrus by his leg. The canine released his higher-up and panted happily at their achievement. They glanced between Papyrus and Mettaton for approval. “ _Did I do good? I bet I did good! I’m such a good dog,_ ” they thought with their chest puffed out.

Papyrus brushed off his _battle body_ clothing, and readjusted his crimson scarf. As Lesser Dog’s overseer, the skeleton scolded the thin dog’s misbehavior. “Go patrol the audience stand,” he demanded. 

Mettaton folded his arms over his panels. “I must apologize for that. I shouldn’t have said _fetch_ -”

White ears perked from the studio audience. Lesser Dog crouched into a quadrupedal form and sniffed the ground. This was one of the rare times that they appeared serious.

Mettaton hunched over — clearly disgruntled at the dog’s incompetence. “ _I am **so** done…_ ” he groaned. He turned his attention to his head of security. “Look, can you _please_ get my manager before I blow a fuse,” he all but hissed.

Papyrus gave a timid salute, and rushed to… wherever he needed to go. _He’d figure it out._

 _[It's Showtime!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uwEAugeH8w)_  chimed from the star’s built-in speaker system. “Oh would you look at that. Time for your online debut sweetness,” he cooed. Frisk scratched their ochre locks in mild bewilderment. “Every morning I start the day off with a broadcast on my UnderNet blog. We might as well inform everyone that I’ve taken someone under my wings. As much as I love starting things off with a bang, you’ve got to start off small. You don’t jump into the crux of the _daily grind_ on day one,” he chuckled.

UnderNet buffered for a moment before the blog came to life. Right on time, the early risers — the most loyal of the MTT fan base — filtered into the podcast and began to converse in the chat room.

As usual Mettaton entered the stream and gave his signature introduction. Most of the stream flew by as the robot made announcement for upcoming, minor events: a new commercial for his latest body oil brand, the season finale of his TV soap opera “ _Cyber’s Bend_ ,” a few ideas still pending for approval, and a brief synopsis of today’s televised schedule. “… and to all of my new beauties, the schedule can be found in the _SCHEDULE_ subpage,” he added.

Mettaton gave a mechanical cough. “Now darlings, I have some _really_ exciting news,” he purred. His muscular, tube-like arms extended towards his pupil and hoisted them into view. “To anyone who missed my performance last night; this is the human was my surprise guest.” The views suddenly shot up. “Their name is Frisk. They -” he paused for dramatic effect, “… will be my protégé from now on.”

Reactions were torn down the middle. Although it appeared that there was more positive feedback than negative. Many commented their excitement about what their favorite automaton would do with the human while others commented horrendous threats. There was a small fraction that remained impartial to the announcement.

It took every shred of Mettaton’s patience not to roll his eyes at the _extremists_. _Sure, they were typically in the minority, but boy did they know how to stir the pot._

Frisk cupped their hands into a heart and thrust it towards the screen. They winked at the audience. The disapproval in the chat died down. The small peace offering soothed the savage hearts of the naysayers — for now. They had a lot to prove, but Frisk had never met anything that topped their determination.

Frisk leaned close into their mentor and whispered something inaudible.

Mettaton grinned. “Frisk said that they appreciate the support and they hope to entertain the Underground soon,” he relayed. “Peace out lovelies.” 

The webcast ended. 

Mettaton sighed and stretched his ever-extendable arms up in the air. He fumbled around his back — searching for his switch — before he sighed. His _mother_ built him with an internal mechanism to switch forms at will, however, that process cost more energy than if he flipped his switch. After a few failed attempts he asked, “Frisk sweetie, do you mind doing me a favor?” 

Frisk nodded, and flipped the switch.

_EXTRACTING GLAMOUR.EXE…_

Mettaton vibrated for a fraction of a minute, before his body broke down into several complex segments. His bulky square form tapered inward and outward — crafting his chest — as his uniped mode of transportation contracted into his now pink chest piece. Out burst his long metallic legs. _Fabulous as always!_ Lastly his head emerged, and with his usual class, he flipped his dark locks.

_GLAMOUR.EXE EXTRACTED!_

_TRANSFORMATION COMPLETE._

Soon after, the two wandered on to another part of the studio. Frisk wondered, “ _How big is this studio?_ ” The backstage alone rivaled the Hotland Coliseum that they had performed at; but still… this was ridiculous! 

Multiple monsters rushed passed the two: some with scripts in their hands, others with microphones. Four monsters were at the cameras as adjustments were made.

Frisk clung onto Mettaton’s leather skinny jeans and looked at the various monsters. The most bizarre out of the stagehands had to be the one that most called Theker: the upper body of a gelatinous tentacle beast, and the lower body of an equine. Theker gave the child a friendly wave with one of her many arms before she trotted away.

“Looks like you’ve already got a fan,” Mettaton chuckled. He placed his gloved hands onto his hips. “Now then. Here’s what we’re going to do now. It’s my Sunday morning special: _Yoga with Mettaton_! Try to focus on the camera’s up front, but camera right and camera left are for striking dynamic poses,” he informed.

He prattled on about other details: mainly how the show would commence. Half of the segment as a solo instructional exercise, the other half would be tweaked however. The latter would be divided into a parent-child yoga session, and the remainder as a spontaneous free-style.

Alarms blared overhead as the cameras honed in on the mentor-pupil pair. The two donned MTT-Brand Sweat Bands, and turned faced forward. 

* * *

For the most part _Yoga with Mettaton_ went relatively well. The segment went on without incident. The camera and lighting crew shambled behind the scenes as they went on to others sets; after all, their work was never done until their boss was through.

Theker passed by with the status of the show’s morning ratings. Frisk’s eyes darted away from the paper once they saw the morning performance’s stagnant numbers.

“Don’t be embarrassed sweetheart. It’s _far_ too early in the morning for the rest of my viewers to be up. My morning performances are usually the lowest out of all of my shows. Last night… was the best performance that I ever had,” Mettaton stated with encouragement. “Monsters and humans are usually still asleep or are preparing for the rest of the day,” he informed. “ _Our job_ is to keep them entertained throughout the day! You live to entertain!” he reminded with a grin that could only be read as smug.

Frisk nodded. Their small flame of passion rekindled.

The star chuckled. “That’s the spirit darling. Now come along. The tech crew needs to finish editing a prerecording for the midmorning show. We’ve got to prepare for _you_ the afternoon show,” he said as he scooped the child into his arms.

Before they could get two steps off of the set a posh, nasally voice called out to the automaton. A stout, sinewy aquatic monster barged in from stage left.

Mettaton rolled his eyes. “Hello Sawnessy,” he greeted with great operose. He took special care to pivot the hip that Frisk was on away from his manager’s large saw-like nose. “ _That thing’s an accident waiting to happen._ ” 

Sawnessy dug into his business suit and pulled out a stack of quiz cards. “This is for today’s quiz show,” he said.

“Thank you Sawnessy,” he replied deadpan. _Wait for it, wait for it, wait fo-_  

“I’ve got a few things I want to addr-”

Mettaton tutted as his index finger wagged. “Before you even start on your little tirade, I’m going to stop you here darling. If it has anything to deal with the new guards, my protégé, or the text I sent you this morning, I’m not hearing it. It’s too early in the morning and you — of all people — are not going to ruin my good mood,” he stated. 

Sawnessy pulled at his silvery locks. “You can’t do this to me Mettaton! You can’t just jump the gun and make moves like this. You went over the accountants and the board of directors’ heads without consulting anyone and you’re pushing me up a wall,” he groaned.

“I don’t care. You act like _my_ studio, _my_ brand, _my_ company, has an issue with money. What do you think I pay you for?! If you can’t handle the spotlight, get out of the way and let someone else step in. Cost doesn’t matter. Talk to whoever you need to talk to, and do what I tell you!” Mettaton hissed; his fangs puckered out of the corner of his mouth.

The marine-like monster yielded with a whine and nodded ferociously. “Yes sir…” he mumbled, and briskly walked away. 

Puffs of steam jetted from Mettaton’s nostrils. “Good work is so hard to find,” he sighed.

Frisk tapped their mentor’s dark shoulder guards.

Mettaton flashed the child a smile. “Sorry that you had to see that sweetie. That’s my _manager_ , Sawnessy. He can be so annoying at times. He’s always trying to find a way to confine my passion,” he huffed.

* * *

 One spotlight. Then two. Confetti fluttered down from the ceiling as a sultry, energetic voice boomed over the loud roars of applause. “Oh yes! Welcome beauties to today’s quiz show; _Quiz Glitz_!” Mettaton, in all of his rectangular glory, greeted his viewers with an equal amount of fervor.

Papyrus leaned against a backstage wall. Infatuation saturated his breath as he exhaled — awestruck. Never before had he dreamed that he would view a show this close to his favorite sexy rectangle.

Greater Dog bound towards his higher up and tapped the skeleton on his shoulder. 

Papyrus snapped out of his star-struck gaze and waited for the dog monster to speak.

Doggo looked between the two with a lit dog treat between his fangs. Suddenly he had an epiphany. On his friend’s behalf he responded, “The other boss is sleeping at his station.”

Abject horror cascaded down the skeleton’s sharp contours. He growled, and asked; “Are you sure?”

Doggo snorted smoke from his nostrils. “I don’t know! I can’t see things that don’t move! The big guy is the one who saw Sans asleep at the backdoor,” he informed.

Papryus pinched his nasal bridge. He turned on his heels and marched through the backstage. The two dogs were hot on his trail. The newly hired guard stopped his stride. “You two go cover the stage entrances. I’ll talk to Sans.”

Meanwhile the stage bristled with energy from the co-hosts. The audience remained respectfully quiet as Mettaton read, however, Frisk noticed the stagnant ratings. “ _Ratings are slow in the m-morning my left foot!_ ” they thought.

Although Mettaton told Frisk not to worry about every show’s views being blown out of the water, it still bothered them. There was a sparkle in the robot’s eyes the moment he saw how successful his concert was. It wasn’t something that could be easily captured, but darn it if they weren’t going to try! 

Whilst Mettaton read through the next question, Frisk concocted an idea to _spice things up_. They cupped their hands to form a letter. A cameraman focused on the act, but panned out to capture both co-hosts.

Bouts of laughter rumbled from the audience as the antics continued for another two questions. Mettaton glanced downward as he waited for the caller to answer the question. Frisk hadn’t noticed. _Who would know how to tell if a screen was looking at them?_

Mettaton leaned over with his hands on where his hips would have been. The robot chastised the young human. “Frisk sweetie, you wouldn’t happen to be cheating?” he asked all-knowingly.

Frisk shrugged with a mischievous grin plastered across their mug.

“I don’t condone lying on my show,” Mettaton chided. “I don’t think a simple time out suffices as punishment for kids like you.”

Multiple lights flickered across the stage as plumes of smoke filtered in from the fog machines. Ratings from the monitor overhead clawed upward. The audience clamored at the sudden change in the script. Some eyed the stage in gaiety while others mumbled anxiously. 

The rectangular automaton struck a pose and switched his screen to flash his trademark “M” symbol. Frisk imagined Mettaton in his EX form with a brow raised arrogantly and grin stretched so wide that the Cheshire cat envied him. “Since we’re doing things a bit differently this time, I guess I’ll have to explain the new rules,” he started. “Our lovely co-host has been quite naughty so they’ll have to be the one to answer the quiz questions,” he continued. 

“Answer correctly or-” Lightning magic was summoned from his gloved hands. Just in the nick of time Frisk leapt out of the way of the blast. “... I think you get my _point_ ,” he tittered as a spark of lightning pulsed from his fingertip.

“Let’s start with an easy one. What is the prize for answering correctly?”

Frisk listened to the four option and chose the most likely, after all, they signed up for this the second they decided they wanted to go off the cuff. “ _The things you do for entertainment,_ ” the child thought. 

For the most part the majority of the game show went in Frisk’s favor. Most of the questions were answered correctly. Frisk might have been young, but not stupid; and with two puzzle-loving guardians to raise them it was a no-brainer. _But where’s the fun in that_?

On the rare occasion Mettaton threw out a volley of lightning spells or minute pyrotechnics. The audience ate the charade up! 

After Frisk had successfully dodged the attack, they had stuck their tongue out at their co-host. “How crude darling;” was the only response that they riled out of the robot.

Frisk pouted. “ _Crude? I’ll sh-show you crude_ ,” they thought. Instead of answering the question, the youth lunged forward with a small kick. 

In his initial form Mettaton had an impervious defense, but this was a show. He backpedaled and leaned against a wall. He opened an exhaust vent and feigned malfunction. Smog seeped from the large metal box. “Such a determined human aren’t you? You may have won the battle sweetness, but the way isn’t over! I’ll get you yet,” he vowed. “More suspense! Harder questions! Next time on _Quiz Glitz_!”

* * *

UnderNet was ablaze with various posts about the latest addition to _Quiz Glitz_.

 ** _2Kool4U:_** the human is pretty _cool_ dont ya think?

 ** _MK1D10:_** Undyne is cooler but she wasnt on the show. Still, i think that it’s awesome that MTT has a kid on the show. Heh bout time that happened. My sister and i liked the show human! Frisk! Watever.

 ** _GetWrecktM08:_** Don’t worry Mettaton, we still love you. You’ll beat that human next time!

 ** _2Kool4U:_** nuh-huh. the human is goin 2 win! #teamhumanswin #teamFrisk

The site’s forums blew up here and there with various viewpoints. Skeptics and critics had their own chat going in another part of UnderNet dedicated to MTT-Brand.

Frisk scrolled down the page and watched the posts; most of which portrayed their relationship to Mettaton as a weird hero-villain duo. Many questioned whether or not it would be continuous or whether or not it was a one-time thing.

Mettaton viewed a few of the forums. Some gave him a few ideas for future quiz shows. His attention went to the young human. Frisk beamed at the sudden fan-base — mainly peers from both species respectively — that they grew in the matter of hours. A red heart flickered onto his screen and quickly faded.

_Such a sporadic attachment to this human puzzled him. Spontaneity wasn’t something new, but neither was this feeling of familiarity. Where did this human come from? This too was a question for a pair of skeletal brothers. Who was Frisk?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this chapter is pretty Mettaton/Frisk predominant, but that is the basis of one of the plots in this story. And to answer you, yes there is more than one plot to this story. Not going to say how many, but just know you'll have something good to look forward to.More characters will come in in due time, but for now, enjoy the Undertale characters that are already in the story. Tell me what you think, or leave me a response on the Tumblr (MTTmorphosis).
> 
> Also, Mettaton goes west everybody! Whoot whoot! XD Sorry, I can be a bit of a nerd. I'm a little hyped about getting to that part of the story.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** “ _Undertale_ ” and all characters related to the game belong to Toby Fox. _Undertale_ was created by Toby Fox, with the creative assistance of Temmie Chang. _Mettamorphosis_ and any characters not associated with Undertale belong to Berserkeroo.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer:** “ _Undertale_ ” and all characters related to the game belong to Toby Fox. _Undertale_ was created by Toby Fox, with the creative assistance of Temmie Chang. _Mettamorphosis_ and any characters not associated with Undertale belong to Berserkeroo.


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